


Maybe You Were the Ocean

by unknown_knowns



Series: Catharsis [1]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Depression, F/F, Gun Violence, I realize now I write summaries in the tags instead of tags, Major Farewell spoilers, Mostly Max POV, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Time Travel, Time powers still there, but it does get better at the end, goes from farewell to S1, like really really feelsy, max kind of never stops beating herself up, really feelsy, so it's not an easy ready, that's maybe a problem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 14:51:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13906347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknown_knowns/pseuds/unknown_knowns
Summary: Max leaves Arcadia Bay when Chloe needs her most.She doesn't really ever forgive herself for it.But she's able to rationalize it.Until Chloe needs her just tolive.





	Maybe You Were the Ocean

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NoctilucentKirsty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoctilucentKirsty/gifts), [GooberBM](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GooberBM/gifts).



> note: If you're reading this as part of the series, then this technically is a sequence break, since it follows Max POV up to S1, whereas the next few stories are from Chloe POV up to S1.

Max watched these past few days as Chloe fell apart.

It was probably the most difficult thing she’d ever done in her life.

It wasn’t just the fact of Chloe falling apart – Max could see _everything_ breaking around her.

She herself still wasn’t really accepting that William was actually gone.

That was just an absurd thought.

He’d come back tomorrow, and this would all be some sort of misunderstanding, or mixup, or something.

He’d smile so warmly and wonder what all of the fuss was about, probably by cracking some very lame joke.

Everything would be okay.

 

But everything wasn’t okay.

 

Max saw Chloe’s anguish and lived it minute by minute.

She saw her cry until there were no more tears in her body to cry with.

She saw her get angry at her mom and coldly rebuke any affection or comfort.

Chloe didn’t refuse Max’s touch, but she felt too awkward to give it, now.

Chloe needed comfort, but … that couldn’t possible be Max, could it?

Max wasn’t really anything without Chloe as her suit of armor.

Chloe would always know how to understand and translate for her, when other people were involved.

Chloe was Max’s energy, her light, her life.

What do you when your light goes out?

When your safety blanket suddenly is set on fire, and lashing out at anything nearby?

Max was there for Chloe, as much as she could be, in these final few days before she left.

It hurt Max more than she could imagine to see Chloe become damaged and angry, but she felt like she owed Chloe this time.

And Max kept quiet about her own hurt over William.

Her own fears about living life without Chloe in it.

Her insecurities about starting school in a new, strange place, surrounded by strangers who wouldn’t understand her, and only see her as the dumb idiot she actually was.

Chloe had so, so much hurt, Max couldn’t possibly add to that anymore than she absolutely had to.

It was impossibly difficult to even tell her about the move, but of course … Chloe had the right words to say in response.

She always knew what to do, and what to say, and how to act.

She always knew how to make Max smile.

 

Max wasn’t smiling these days.

 

It was the day before the funeral.

Chloe was laying on her bed, staring at her ceiling, and just … existing.

She had been crying a lot, today, which just meant her body was out of tears for now.

Max was sitting on Chloe’s chair, and just … watched her.

She watched the way Chloe’s face would pitch up when maybe she thought she was going to start crying again.

She watched the way Chloe shuddered, the way she muttered inconsolable shaky breaths, the way she hugged at herself as though it would help comfort at all.

It was so difficult to watch.

But what could Max do?

There was no possible way she could soothe Chloe’s damage over William.

Max still had both of her parents.

She was going to be moving to a new, fancy school, in a new, fancy city.

She had no right to be sad, and she had no way to understand what Chloe was going through.

Yet she still felt so sad, anyway, and not just from watching Chloe fall apart.

This wasn’t fair.

Max should know what to say to help Chloe, like Chloe always knew what to say to help Max.

Did this mean she was an asshole, somehow?

Just using Chloe for the comfort, but being totally unable to return any?

She wasn’t even sure Chloe wanted her touch, with the way Chloe coldly rejected Joyce’s affections.

Max wasn’t sure she could handle rejecting her touch.

 

Chloe seemed to feel different, though.

Most of the days, she just let watch Max, and Max was pretty sure Chloe appreciated the space yet proximity.

Today though, Chloe turned onto her side and patted at the sheets next to her.

“Max …”

 Max blinked, but wasn’t going to refuse such a direct summon.

She quietly got out of her chair and laid down on her back on the bed next to Chloe.

Chloe whimpered, and buried her face pathetically in Max’s neck or shoulders or somewhere and moved one of her hands over to rest it on Max’s belly.

Chloe was probably the only one who could touch Max and it didn’t immediately feel violating and wrong.

Even still, this was a lot for Chloe, and Max didn’t know how to process this affection, or how to return it.

Hug?

No.

That would interrupt Chloe’s posture.

What do people do when they’re like this?

Max felt so fucking useless.

Chloe emitted a shuddering breath, but after sniffling and breathing in harshly, she pulled her face away and laid it down next to Max’s.

Max looked over to her.

Chloe cleared her throat and blinked.

“Everything’s so … _unfair_ , Max …”

Chloe needed help.

But Max didn’t know what to say.

She just gaped her mouth and rushed her mind for _something_ , _anything_ –

“I’m … not unfair.”

Wait, no, damnit –

Take it back, take it back, take it back –

Max was literally leaving tomorrow how on earth was that fair -

Chloe whimpered again and pulled away from Max, laying on her back aside her instead.

Max immediately missed Chloe’s hand on her, even if she didn’t know how to process it being there.

Chloe looked to her ceiling and just melted.

“For … one more day, anyway.”

Max felt so defeated.

Chloe sounded even worse than before.

She was even tearing up again.

This is exactly what Max was fearing.

Knowing she had to help Chloe, but not knowing how to.

And knowing that not knowing how to was just going to hurt Chloe even more than if she hadn’t bothered at all.

Still, Max felt like she had to do … _something_.

Max really liked it when Chloe sort of folded into her, so she tried to do the same thing.

Max turned onto her side, moved one of her arms, awkwardly, onto Chloe’s belly, and melted into her neck.

Max was way out of her comfort zone initiating affection this like and it took far longer to get into position than Chloe had taken, and Max felt so awkward but –

Chloe needed her.

Max was so relieved when Chloe whimpered, but melted more herself and made a content sigh.

They both closed their eyes, and Chloe gently brought a hand over to Max’s, to gently stroke it with her fingers and thumb.

Max blushed, and she didn’t quite know why.

She felt compelled to do … something.

She didn’t know what.

She felt so useless.

But at least this seemed to be right the right move.

Chloe emitted another one of those awful shuddering exhales, and her breathing got quicker for a few seconds, and it felt like she was going to hyperventilate, but then she breathed in harshly and calmed herself down.

She spoke so gently and quietly, next.

Max always paid attention to when Chloe was gentle and controlled.

“But I’m … really glad you’re here … Max … even if it’s for just a little while longer.”

Max smiled.

“Yeah?”

She asked the question into Chloe’s neck, which earned a pleasant shiver out of her.

Max really liked that reaction out of Chloe but couldn’t understand why.

Shivering was a bad thing.

It meant fear, didn’t it?

Chloe nodded, barely.

“Yeah …”

This was … some kind of moment, right?

It felt like it.

Chloe just said something really gentle and nice and kind and Max –

Max didn’t know what to say.

She wanted to find the words and put them in the right order to properly express how much Chloe meant to Max.

She knew they had to exist.

She knew there had to be some kind of word that described this feeling she felt for Chloe.

She just didn’t know how to describe it.

Max made a mental note to research this, later.

Chloe deserved so much more than Max could give.

And in the quiet moments while Max considered what to say, the moment slowly slipped away from the both of them, with Max just awkwardly not saying anything at all.

I’m really happy I’m here too?

That didn’t sound right. Max was a lot of things right now, but happy wasn’t one of them.

I just want you to be happy?

No. Max was leaving soon. That would just sound cruel.

I will always be there for you?

This felt … closer. Not quite right.

Chloe sighed wearily, and Max knew the time for her to think of what to say was gone, now.

“Hey Max … what do you think Seattle is like?”

Max blinked.

She didn’t really want to talk about herself.

She just wanted to focus on Chloe.

So the truth, that Max was terrified of being all alone in a huge city she didn’t know, didn’t come out.

Max couldn’t put that burden on Chloe.

She was carrying the world on her back as it was.

Instead, Max just quietly shrugged.

“It’s probably … okay … I guess … I dunno.”

She breathed into Chloe’s neck again and Chloe shivered again.

Max still liked it, and decided she wasn’t moving an inch.

Especially since Chloe didn’t stoke gently stroking her hand.

Chloe made a thoughtful sound.

“Oh … cool.”

She sounded a little put-out.

Was she expecting something else?

Max literally could not do anything right when it came to comforting Chloe.

About the only thing she did that seemed to help Chloe at all she just outright copied from her.

Max was so fucking useless.

Why couldn’t her goddamn brain just put the stupid words together?

Why couldn’t she just force herself into comforting Chloe like she so desperately wanted to?

After that, Chloe didn’t have any more questions for Max.

She just spent the rest of their time together like this, together, sometimes crying for a spell, sometimes breathing easily.

She seemed better with the physical contact from Max.

The physical contact that would be impossible so soon.

Max was so useless.

She had one job as a friend …

Max spent the rest of the time just quietly considering how to paint the picture in her mind of how much Chloe meant to her.

Even though there was a fear it might scare Chloe, or upset her, or not be good enough.

Max had to try.

Chloe deserved that.

 

When Max left, that day, to get ready for the funeral and finish packing, she spent most of her free time googling the vague ways she could describe her feelings and see what words popped up.

The more she read, the more Max’s jaw dropped.

One word in particular kept coming up, and it was strong, but it didn’t feel wrong.

Max could never say this word to Chloe’s face, could she …?

Maybe she didn’t have to, to still get it across.

She could write a letter … no.

An e-mail? … no.

Definitely not a text.

These were just not sufficient.

Chloe deserved more than just letters on a page.

She deserved to hear Max’s voice, and the emotions Chloe brought out of her.

Even if Max was too pathetic to say it to her face.

She could at least know.

Max would have done everything she could to comfort Chloe in this awful time.

If only she wasn’t so useless.

Maybe Chloe would be better off this way, with Max away, anyway.

She would find some new friend, who wasn’t so dumb and useless, who would know how to put the words together to make Chloe feel good.

Then Chloe would know how useless Max actually was.

She would move on.

Max sniffled.

Chloe would survive this.

She was the strongest person Max knew.

 

Max asked her family for a tape recorder, but everything was sort of packed away, and the request was pretty odd to begin with.

Damn it.

She would have to find one, soon, and hopefully have the time to record her message to Chloe.

This word she deserved to hear.

 

The next morning, Max was dressed appropriately for the funeral.

All black.

She woke up with a sort of headache from her emotional exertion, and the mood around the house was pretty dower.

Max’s mother spent a little while adjusting Max’s dress so it was just so.

Max’s father, Ryan, just sort of stood there with his arms crossed, and his features heavy.

Nothing about this was pleasant.

It wasn’t as though Ryan wanted to split up Max and Chloe, particularly with the unfortunate timing of William’s death.

But there was nothing he could do – either he and his family moved, or he and his family suddenly didn’t have any income.

But both he and his wife knew how much this was going to upset Chloe and Max.

It’s moments like this that made him wonder how good of a father he actually was.

So it kept him pretty pensive.

 

Before the funeral, both families met up at the Price household.

Both of Max’s parents wanted a private conversation with Joyce, so the three of them headed off to the living room and spoke in hushed tones.

Max decided to go up to Chloe’s room.

She knocked on the door quietly, but Chloe didn’t answer.

Max sighed and put her forehead against the door.

“It’s Max.”

After a few more seconds, she heard Chloe’s voice, gentle, and soft.

“Okay. Come in, Max.”

Max bit her lip and quietly opened the door and closed it behind her.

She had her head bowed and walked a few steps into her room – and when she looked up –

She gasped.

Despite the moment, and the mood, and how serious everything was, Chloe was gorgeous in her formal wear.

Chloe almost looked like Joyce, particularly with the way her arms were crossed, and the softness to her face as she looked out her window.

Max quietly worked through her shock of how different Chloe looked when the situation called for it and gently walked up behind her.

But Max still … didn’t really know what to say.

“I um … like your suit.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

They were about to go to a funeral and all Max could manage was a weak compliment about Chloe’s clothes?

How –

Chloe scoffed, just barely amused, and looked back to Max with the most fragile and barest of smiles.

She uncrossed her arms, and gently walked in front of Max.

Max blinked.

Chloe placed both of her hands on Max’s shoulders, still with that so somber and soft a smile, and then carefully raised one hand up –

Max almost blushed for some reason –

The hand went back to Max’s hair, and Chloe plucked out Max’s hair tie.

She stretched her hand out so the tie scooted back onto her wrist, and for a few seconds, Chloe just ran her fingers through Max’s hair, letting it down and readjusting it in the way Chloe always liked.

Max just gaped her mouth and watched Chloe.

This seemed to be making her happier, somehow …

Max wasn’t even doing anything …

She really wanted to say something.

Give her the word that she had learned last night.

It felt so perfect a moment to do so, when Chloe was playing with Max’s hair, and seemed free of tears for once.

It was on the tip of her tongue.

So close.

 

Chloe. I love you. I never want to leave you.

 

It ran on repeat on her mind, over and over and over again, and every time it looped and she failed to voice it she felt that much more useless and pathetic.

Eventually, Chloe looked down, at Max’s shoes, and brought both of her hands down to Max’s shoulders.

She breathed in so deeply, so harshly.

Chloe too, seemed to hesitate and fail to find the words she wanted to say.

“I ---”

Chloe tried, looking up to Max, but ---

“--- Chloe! Can you please come down for a few minutes?”

Chloe blinked, and looked past Max to her door.

She bit her lip, and looked between Max, and the door, and Max, and the door, and then she just sighed.

“I guess I have to go. But please wear your hair down more often, Max … it looks really nice on you.”

Max wasn’t going to ever put her hair in a pony tail ever again.

Even now, Max wanted to say something, anything.

But all she could manage was a shaky, uncertain,

“O-okay.”

And, of course, Chloe wanted to hear more.

She deserved to hear more.

And Max’s failure in duty was so evident on the way Chloe’s face very slightly fell, and the way she sighed, and the way she removed her hands from Max, and the way she just quietly left the room, and left Max all alone.

 

Fuck.

 

Max raised a hand up to rub at her recently-freed hair while she thought about things.

She wanted to cry.

She was so close to telling Chloe what she deserved to hear …

But she just couldn’t.

Chloe deserved better.

She deserved someone who could actually take care of her, and be her support when she was weak.

Not just use her for the emotional stability and armor like some kind of asshole.

Max was being so selfish with her relationship with Chloe.

Chloe would realize it, eventually.

Max closed her eyes, and felt herself shrinking a little without Chloe’s presence, anymore.

She rubbed at her arm.

After a few seconds of self-comfort, she blinked her eyes open and looked around.

There was a tape recorder on Chloe’s desk.

Max bit her lip, and hesitated, but she knew what she needed to do.

She walked over to the tape recorder, picked it off Chloe’s desk and moved to sit down on Chloe’s bed.

She pulled out the note she had written and rehearsed saying all of last night.

This was going to be so hard.

But Chloe deserved to hear it.

 

Max pressed record.

 

After she finished, she realized the tape still had the old label on it.

Max bit her lip.

Chloe wouldn’t even realize this had changed …

She looked around again and found some post-it notes.

Better than nothing.

She grabbed one of those, and sharpie, and hesitated for a few seconds.

But she knew how she wanted to label this.

Max was sorry for being so pathetic.

For being so useless.

For being such an awful, asshole friend.

For not being able to comfort Chloe when she needed it the most.

For everything.

Max carefully wrote down _i'm sorry_ even though her world was blurry and heavy with tears right now.

She then carefully placed it on the tape recorder and placed the tape recorder right on the floor in front of Chloe’s door.

She would have to see it, this way.

Chloe might not believe it, Chloe might be weirded out, Chloe might get angry when she heard it …

But at least Max managed to say what she wanted to.

At least she stopped being pathetic for one minute of her life and did what she had to do.

With a sad smile, Max looked down to the tape recorder.

 

She hoped it gave Chloe whatever comfort it could for as long as it could.

 

“Max! C’mon. The service is starting soon.”

Max looked to Chloe’s door and sighed wearily.

She stepped over the tape recorder, and calmly left Chloe’s room.

She wondered if she would ever see it again.

 

The funeral was difficult for Max to sit through.

Seeing everyone so sad and distraught … not to mention facing the reality of the fact William was dead, and never coming back.

Max had been sort of in denial about it for as long as she could, but it was hard to deny it when the casket was right in front of her, and the flowers were right in front of her, and the smiling picture of William was right in front of her.

Chloe stayed close to Max and Joyce but separated.

Max wanted to comfort Chloe, but … she probably couldn’t.

What even do you say?

What even could anyone say?

What kind of world does this to people?

Max just awkwardly kept her hands cupped together until her father tapped at her shoulder and indicated they had to leave, now.

Max sighed.

She looked to Chloe, and once again, she wanted to tell her everything.

But she didn’t.

She turned and followed her family.

But she paused part way to the car and looked back to Chloe again.

Once again, she wanted to tell her everything.

But she didn’t.

She couldn’t.

She just couldn’t.

The tape recorder would succeed where she failed.

Max sighed again, but she just left Chloe, all alone.

 

Like what an asshole would do.

 

She watched Chloe the entire time the family car drove away.

She wished she didn’t see Chloe once again rebuking her mother’s affections.

She wished she didn’t see Chloe start to break down into tears.

She wished she didn’t see Chloe become smaller, and smaller, and smaller, until she was obstructed entirely.

Even when Chloe was long past her vision, Max kept staring where she ought to be.

She kept hoping she would see Chloe again.

Max closed her eyes, eventually, and whimpered.

Her mother and father looked back, sadly, and sighed wearily themselves.

This was going to be a long ride.

 

\---

 

After everything and everyone had left the funeral, Chloe and Joyce returned to their home.

Chloe felt so numb.

She had cried so much, and seeing the casket was so difficult.

What did she do to deserve this?

Now without Max to be her light, and without her dad to be her shield, Chloe didn’t know what she was going to do with herself.

What would she even do tomorrow?

Next week?

Next month?

Everything she did was with Max or her dad.

She didn’t even know how to live without them.

She didn’t even know how she’d begin to learn to live without them.

Joyce said something, but Chloe’s brain didn’t process it.

She just sadly walked up the stairs.

She just sadly opened her door.

She just sadly walked into her room.

She just sadly closed the door behind her.

She just sadly –

Chloe blinked, almost tripping over something on her floor that shouldn’t be there.

She paused and looked down to it.

What the hell?

A tape recorder.

With a note.

_i'm sorry_

Oh no.

Chloe was already breathing heavier at just seeing the two words.

There were a lot of thoughts about what this might be … but she had a pretty good idea this was from Max.

And boy would this hurt to listen to …

But Chloe had nothing else to do.

Biting her lip, Chloe tried to brace herself for what was about to come.

Maybe she had bled out all of her tears crying about her father, anyway.

She carefully got down into a sitting position and pulled the tape recorder closer.

Her finger was trembling as she hesitated on pushing the play button.

Then, Chloe closed her eyes and breathed in deep.

She pressed play.

 

“Hey Chloe, this is Max.”

 

Fuck.

One sentence in and Chloe was tearing up.

 

“I guess I just wanted to leave you one more message … because I know this was … the absolute _worst_ time for me to go.”

 

Chloe whimpered, and sealed her eyes closed with her tears.

One of her fists tightened, and she tried to steady herself.

 

“I thought maybe … maybe if you … heard my voice, or something, it could be a little bit like I was there.”

 

Chloe smiled sadly, despite everything.

She brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around.

At least Max was right about that.

There was noticeable delay before the next line started, and she could hear Max start and fail a sentence once or twice.

 

“I … I don’t know. Maybe this was a mistake --- I like, wrote out what I wanted to say, and, um … I still can’t get the words out. It’s … it’s hard, Chloe … I have so, so, _so_ many thoughts in my head, but … I never know how to … get them out. I always just --- relied on you, to do that.”

 

Chloe whimpered again.

She leaned over until she was laying down on her side, in what was basically a fetal position.

The tape recorder was so close to her face, now.

 

“But I don’t --- I don’t want things to change between us … okay? I want us to always be together … I want to always be there for you, Chloe. Just like … when we were kids, right? Even when one of us was grounded for a little bit … we were still Max and Chloe. Always.”

 

Chloe knew she was crying well and good now, and fuck if she didn’t find more tears to shed from some miserable part of her inner most damaged core.

She brought the tape recorder to her chest and hugged it as though it were Max itself.

Desperate for the voice to never leave her.

Desperate for the comforting words to never stop.

Desperate for Max to be here.

And still care.

 

“Um … and … I want you to know … and I’m sorry if this is like … weird, or whatever, but …”

Chloe blinked.

“… I will always – l-love you, Chloe. Always. From … the first day I met you, and you saved me from that … dumb bully … to the day I die.”

This then, was simply too much for Chloe to bear.

She started sobbing openly, pathetically, loudly.

She fucking lost it at the idea of Max loving her and being unable to say it until it was too fucking late.

How much more unfair could the world fucking get?

 

Chloe cried herself to sleep.

But she kept the tape recorder.

She listened to it often.

Chloe didn’t know how much she needed to hear Max saying she loved her until she heard it.

It was going to keep her sane through all of this bullshit, she knew.

This would keep her sane until they could start talking again, and maybe even until she could see Max’s beautiful, nerdy face.

 

\---

 

Maybe a day or two after Max moved to Seattle, she got a text message from Chloe.

_hey max_

Max smiled.

At first.

Then, almost immediately, she was hit with worry.

Just ‘hey max’?

Did Chloe not see the tape?

Did Chloe see the tape and not like it?

Max said a lot of pretty heavy stuff on that tape …

She expected it to be brought up.

What if she didn’t even see it, somehow?

Or maybe Max was an idiot and fucked up the recording somehow.

It’s not like she tested playing it back …

What if Chloe took it the wrong way?

What if Chloe didn’t want her love?

What if Chloe just thought she was the asshole that Max kinda felt like?

The doubts kept swirling around in her head and it choked off any ability she had to respond.

All day long, she kept looking at that text, and wondering how to respond.

It should be so simple, it should be so easy, but it just wasn’t.

Just a ‘hey Chloe’ felt so wildly inappropriate between William’s death and the tape.

It had to be better than that.

Somehow.

More meaningful.

Thoughtful.

Chloe deserved better.

She deserved as much as Max could put into it.

Chloe would understand if Max took a day or two to find the right words and put them down in a text.

She knew Max wasn’t that great at self-expression.

She would understand.

 

It was about a week after Chloe’s first text that Max resolved herself to respond.

School would start up soon, and if she didn’t get this out of the way right now …

Max worried she might end up getting caught up in everything else going on in her life.

She wasn’t some natural student like Chloe – she had to put in real effort just to get by.

So that night, Max sat herself down at her desk and brought out a piece of paper.

She started to write.

It was difficult, and Max sucked at writing, but Chloe deserved this.

 

[(“Workout” – Gleemer)](https://open.spotify.com/track/4HkSHxUcZovf2C3ZV0cbmn?si=nlSOanqFTJ2LhLt0cXTPug)

 

And Max spent so long working on this damn letter, this damn response.

She went past her bedtime just doing draft and revision after draft and revision.

It was especially hard since what she wanted to say brought tears to her eyes and exhausted her emotionally, but she kept at it.

Chloe deserved this.

 

After the countless revision, Max was … okay, with what she had written down.

It was kind of rambling and not as good as the words sounded in her head, but she needed to send _something_ , right?

Chloe deserved this.

For a while, she considered just sending this as like a physical letter.

That felt more personal than a text.

But that’d take a while to deliver, right?

A few days.

Chloe had been waiting long enough.

Max decided to transcribe it to her phone as a text.

 

_chloe there’s so much I want to say to you that I still haven’t, and I don’t know how to put the words down but it’s only been a few days and I miss you so much. how are things with your mom? how are you getting over william? I keep thinking about him and it’s killing me – I haven’t even lost my parents yet it feels like some part of me is missing now. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through and how awful you must feel. you never deserved this_

When she typed it all out, though, there was a problem.

Max re-read it a hundred times, so the problem wasn’t the text itself, or any sort of inaccuracies.

This is something she worked hard on, and she thought it showed with how genuine it was.

But there was this crushing sense that she had simply gone too far, now, and Chloe wouldn’t appreciate this wall of text in response to a simple hi.

Chloe didn’t want the reminder that Max sucked at talking – she knew, already.

Chloe didn’t want to hear about how William’s death got to Max – how selfish could Max be in possibly making this about herself, somehow?

She didn’t want to hear about Max missing her – that was like rubbing it in her face that Max had left her.

She didn’t want to be questioned about either parent – Max already knew things were going south between Joyce and her and Chloe deserved to not think about that.

She didn’t want to hear about Max still having both of her parents – again, what the hell Max, why do you keep rubbing it in Chloe’s face?

About the only thing that felt okay was the last line, but even that seemed suspect.

What if Chloe didn’t want difficult emotions?

A worrying thought then hit Max, and it was impossible to shake from her head and dispel from her thoughts.

 

What if she just wanted someone to be strong for her?

 

What if Chloe wanted someone Max could never be?

Someone who could be strong when she was weak.

Cold when she was warm.

Comforting when she was angry, sad, or upset.

A balm to her ache.

 

Max started to tear up.

She couldn’t send this.

She didn’t know _what_ she could send, since a simple response seemed inappropriate, but a heavier response did as well.

The only thing that felt right for Max to send was something less offensive, something less about herself, something that projected everything was going okay, and she could be strong.

 

Max’s fingers trembled over her phone as she agonized sending the text, going back and forth between feeling like she had to send it, and feeling like she needed to keep working on this until it was _perfect_.

Until it was the correct balance of respectful of Chloe’s suffering, just open to Max’s issues enough, and projected enough strength to help Chloe through this.

To give her some light, or something.

She couldn’t send _this_ , though.

Max fell asleep on her bed still agonizing sending the text, with her eyes full of tears and her head aching from emotional exertion.

 

She never sent the text.

And every day she didn’t, she felt worse.

And she felt like the text had to be that much more perfect to make it up to Chloe.

Chloe deserved that.

 

Days turned to weeks.

Max started school.

She still hadn’t sent the text and it was starting to really wear down on her that she hadn’t.

She had one fucking job as a friend.

Just be strong.

Just be comforting.

Just be there for her.

But she just couldn’t fucking do it.

She couldn’t pluck the right comforting words out of her mind to soothe Chloe’s damage.

She couldn’t even fucking get over William herself, and she still had both of her parents around to comfort her.

How pathetic was she?

How useless?

Chloe deserved a better friend than this.

Max was such a dumb, useless asshole.

Chloe probably felt manipulated that Max told her she loved her.

Like it would make up for the fact Max couldn’t comfort her, or something.

Max was so stupid to say that.

She shouldn’t have made that recording.

It was probably just taunting Chloe instead of helping her.

Just another way Max was a useless fuckup who couldn’t be what Chloe needed.

 

The thoughts kept her pretty occupied at school.

She went through her classes thinking about Chloe and how awful Max was as a person.

She missed William and thought about all of the memories she had with Chloe and him.

It made it even more difficult to express herself, since she knew now that she was a useless idiot who couldn’t do anything right and couldn’t even be someone’s friend.

So she stammered when teachers asked her questions.

She had trouble doing written assignments.

She didn’t talk to anyone in her classes.

She just tried to exist and somehow not fuck up going to class and doing her homework.

If she could even manage that.

 

This arrangement created difficulties, though.

It was maybe a few weeks later, and of course, Max still hadn’t sent the text.

She’d sent something else, which made her feel a little better, but that text didn’t express anything she wanted to.

All it was was an apology, which is all Max felt like she could offer, since she was so useless and such a terrible friend.

Maybe it was the only thing Chloe wanted to hear out of her, anymore.

Sorry I manipulated you with my love.

Sorry I can’t do my job as a friend.

Sorry I’m not good enough.

Sorry.

 

Max’s thoughts were rudely interrupted as another student grasped at her backpack and tugged her back.

Max gasped and her urge was to hug whatever she was holding to herself, but she was holding lunch, so that couldn’t be done.

Instead, she just barely looked back at whoever was harassing her.

She already knew who it was, though.

One of the many bullies who picked on her for her stammer, for her inability to talk, for how small and weak and pathetic and useless she was.

“Where’s my money?”

Oh no.

Max looked down to her food.

She’d already spent the money on some food – not that she owed this bully anything, but he desired to take it from her anyway.

“I … I …”

She couldn’t force the words out.

The bully scoffed and shoved her forward.

Max very nearly tripped, but thankfully she kept herself composed enough to avoid faceplanting into her food or something.

She just awkwardly stumbled forward instead.

The bully scoffed and crossed his arms.

“Double tomorrow or your head’s going in the toilet.”

Max felt herself shrinking down even more.

She wished she could be like Chloe and punch this bully in the face.

But of course she couldn’t be like Chloe.

She was Max.

“O-okay …”

And Max was pathetic and useless.

The bully scoffed but seemed satisfied enough, and left Max without any further harassment.

Max just sighed and made her way to the far end of the cafeteria, where she could sit in relative silence and comfort and just exist while she ate her food.

 

This day was different, though.

 

She wasn’t alone.

Not long after she started to eat, two strangers sat down opposite Max with their food.

Max considered getting up and leaving, since now she felt like she was intruding on them.

She tensed up.

She barely even looked at them.

“Hey …”

Of the two, there was one boy and one girl, and the boy spoke first.

Max blinked and looked up to him.

They were both heavier-set and less fairer-skinned than bronzed.

Max felt some comradery with them immediately in that they didn’t seem to care that they weren’t wearing fashionable clothes or part of some stupid clique.

And the thought gave her the barest of smiles, before she sighed and looked back down at her food.

She wanted to say hi, but of course, she couldn’t.

She just wished they’d realize how dumb she was and left her alone.

The two looked to one another, and the girl spoke next.

“We saw you getting bullied.”

Max blinked and looked up to her.

Both of their faces were just … so concerned.

Max bit her lip.

“Yeah … I mean … not … not really, he just … wants my allowance sometimes … it’s no big deal – I’m probably just -”

The girl frowned and reached her hand out to one of Max’s and try and squeeze it.

Max didn’t know how to handle the affection and comfort, so she just let it happen with some blinking and her words were choked off.

The girl bit her lip for a few seconds, then sighed.

“You don’t have to put up with that crap, really.”

Max smiled a little at the thought.

The boy grinned.

“Just eat with us. Then dumbface won’t bother you. Safety in numbers, and all.”

Max smiled some more at the thought and felt herself relaxing a bit.

The girl released Max’s hand and smiled.

“I’m Kristen.”

She gestured to the boy,

“This is Fernando.”

Max just sort of awkwardly nodded.

Kristen kept on smiling, though.

“What’s your name?”

Oh, right.

Exchanging names is what normal, not-useless people do.

Max blinked.

“Uhm. I’m Max. Max Caulfield.”

They both smiled a bit wider.

“Max. I like it. It suits you. Nice to meet you, Max.”

Max didn’t know what words went here in response, so she just awkwardly nodded again and hoped it was fine.

And it was, Kirsten just held the look for a few more seconds, then pleasantly reached into her bag and pulled out a chemistry text book.

Fernando had been quietly picking at his lunch in the little intervening moments, and Max considered doing that too, but …

The chemistry text book immediately sent her thoughts in another direction.

“Is that Chemistry?”

Kirsten blinked and looked up at Max.

She smiled.

“Yeah! You like Chemistry?”

Max smiled, too, and didn’t even realize how much she was.

It felt weird to smile after everything that had happened to her these past few weeks.

“No … n-not me. Um. I kinda suck at everything.”

Kirsten frowned a little, but it didn’t discourage Max for some reason,

“But. Chloe used to _love_ chemistry. It was her favorite subject.”

Kirsten and Fernando looked to one another, before back at Max.

“Who’s Chloe?”

Max blinked.

Right.

She hadn’t explained that.

Max looked away from the two with a sigh and rubbed at her arm.

“Chloe is … amazing. She’s like … my everything. I miss her so much.”

Kirsten and Fernando went quiet for a few seconds.

The way Max said this inspired it out of them – she sounded so regretful and sad.

Like Chloe had died, or something.

 

So for now, they decided to not push Max and just let her eat her lunch.

 

Weeks turned into months, and Max still hadn’t sent the text she wanted to.

Even worse, she had made other drafts of other texts, each more elaborate than the last, each with more of her soul poured into it, each more regretful at the time she had spent not talking to Chloe.

She never sent any of them, though.

She just couldn’t bring herself to.

Chloe still hadn’t really sent much to Max – if she really needed her, Chloe would be more desperate, right?

Chloe was probably getting over this already.

She might have totally recovered by now.

Chloe was so strong, like that.

It’d feel weird to send such a long rambling text if Chloe had gotten over everything.

Max was just an idiot who didn’t know anything.

Chloe was so personable, too.

She probably already made some more friends.

Hell, Max made some friends, and she wasn’t even trying.

They just collided into her without her consent, but it’s not like she was complaining.

She was bullied less physically around them, though the teasing words still came.

There’s no way Chloe hadn’t made new friends and found some people who were less useless than Max.

 

Chloe had probably moved on, and Max couldn’t.

 

So she didn’t send the texts she wanted to.

She didn’t send any of the letters she might’ve.

She didn’t send any of the photos she took – even though Max knew Chloe loved each and every single one of them and hung them up in her room.

Max didn’t take very many photos anymore, anyway.

Max just tried to exist, until she could see Chloe again, and see just how much Chloe had moved on.

Even if Chloe didn’t need Max, Max needed Chloe, and she needed some kind of excuse to move back to Arcadia Bay.

 

She just hoped it came soon.

 

Months turned into years.

Max was a very average student, with very average grades.

But she had two friends, at least, who she could kind of talk to about things.

She wasn’t quite as pathetic as she thought.

She played a lot of video games and watched a lot of movies in her free time – instead of studying, or taking pictures, or doing anything productive like that.

She just didn’t feel like taking pictures, anymore.

 

A few years later, she had somewhat gotten over Chloe and William.

She still hadn’t sent any meaningful correspondence and she felt so awful about that, but she also knew that Chloe had moved on, and it was dumb to bring up old wounds like that.

She slowly got back into photography from the encouragement of her friends.

In the day-to-day, it was easier to live with herself and what an awful friend she had been to Chloe.

She wasn’t the perfect friend to either Kirsten or Fernando, but she at least wasn’t useless to them, either.

Max had been learning a little better on how not to be a useless stammering idiot in conversation.

Things were just different with Chloe.

Max cared so much more about what Chloe thought of her and what Max’s words might mean when Chloe heard them.

She had less anxiety if she said something dumb or awkward to the others – they’d just call her a dork and laugh it off.

But she didn’t want to say the wrong things to Chloe and lose her as a friend forever.

She just had to keep existing until she could move back to Arcadia Bay and reconnect.

Max didn’t know how she would make it up to Chloe, but she would find a way.

She hoped.

 

Fully four years later, Max still hadn’t sent what she wanted to.

But during that year, she found out that the legendary Mark Jefferson was going to be teaching at Blackwell.

The same school Chloe went to.

Did she already graduate?

Did she already move out of Arcadia Bay and move on with her life?

It’d been four years, now, and Chloe had stopped sending anything to Max a long time ago.

She’d probably forgotten all about Max, by now, even if Max would never forget about Chloe.

Either way, Mr. Jefferson was part of a special photography program at Blackwell, and Max thought she might be able to convince her parents to enroll her in it.

An excuse.

Finally.

She put a little bit more effort into her grades this year so she’d have a better chance of getting accepted into Blackwell.

 

Five years later, and she had gotten accepted.

It was probably the happiest she’d felt in five years, though at the same time, it worried her.

She was actually going to move back to Arcadia Bay after all of this time.

She was actually going to talk to Chloe again, in person.

Would she fuck this up, somehow, too?

Would Chloe even care for her, anymore, or recognize her as the awful asshole friend she was and keep her at arm’s length?

Had Chloe changed at all?

Max had, a little.

She could function without Chloe now, but that was more out of necessity than anything.

Chloe had probably been so successful in school and was well on her way to a great career somewhere somehow.

Things were probably fine and Max would be such an idiot for worrying about this.

 

Max moved into her dorm at Blackwell and looked at Chloe’s contact information in her phone.

Did she even still have the same number?

Did Joyce?

Did they even live in the same house?

Had they moved out of Arcadia Bay?

Max didn’t want her first text to Chloe in all of these years to be just rudely asking her if she was still even in Arcadia Bay.

If Chloe was still here, Max would see her around … somewhere.

Maybe Max would go to Two Whales, if that was still a thing.

Max smiled as she put her phone away.

That sounded like a good plan.

 

But as she started her school work at Blackwell, she fell into old habits.

She convinced herself, day by day, to not go to Two Whales, to not check the Price household, to not call or text Chloe.

She had a variety of excuses, but the pattern was comfortable and familiar to her, by now.

It was easy to rationalize.

Chloe had moved on.

Maybe even moved away.

Max was such an awful friend she wouldn’t want to reconnect even if she was still here.

And even if she did, Max would probably fuck things up again.

And even if she didn’t, Chloe probably felt awkward about Max’s confession of love.

And even if she didn’t, she’d probably just think Max meant it in a friendly way.

Max didn’t even begin to think about which way she actually meant it.

She was just a kid when she said that word to Chloe.

She hardly even knew what it meant …

Maybe Chloe even forgot.

Max just existed.

She didn’t contact Chloe.

 

Later still, Max was in the girl’s bathroom.

She was looking at the photo she wanted to enter for Mr. Jefferson’s photography context.

Every day heroes.

But Max’s picture was awful.

She couldn’t take good pictures.

This was just a waste of everyone’s time.

She could never win a contest like this.

What was even the point in trying?

She looked at herself in the mirror, and almost started to cry, but just decided to put the photo away in her back pocket and look at herself.

She leaned forward towards the mirror and placed her hands on the sink.

All this time, she hardly even changed.

Without someone around to draw the confidence out of her, Max didn’t think she could do what she wanted to do.

The only thing different about her now was her hair, basically, and that was only because Chloe wanted it a certain way.

Even that was kind of pathetic, wasn’t it?

Would Chloe think it was weird if Max told her she had been respecting that wish for five full years, even if Chloe wasn’t around to see it?

What would Chloe think of her if she saw her now, virtually unchanged, and struggling just to enter a damn photo in a damn contest?

Max smiled, barely.

Chloe would probably kick her ass into submitting it by just blindly rejecting all of Max’s anxieties.

She could imagine her waltzing in the bathroom with that too-much energy she had, stealing the photo out of Max’s pocket, and running away to enter it for her.

And Max would chase her, and they would both laugh, and laugh, and ---

Max suddenly jolted back and almost jumped out of her skin as a butterfly flew _right_ past her face.

Jesus.

She watched the pretty blue butterfly go with her hand over her heart, trying to calm herself down from the shock.

The butterfly just landed on the far side of the bathroom, where the janitorial equipment was stored.

Max looked around.

That was … a pretty good photo opportunity, actually.

She blinked and smiled a little as she pulled out her camera and made her way over to the butterfly.

 

Click.

 

Max stood up afterwards and plainly shook the polaroid, and although it would take a few minutes to develop, she thought it was a good shot, and put both the camera and the shot away in her bag.

She crossed her arms and looked at the butterfly.

What a strange creature.

It didn’t seem to be afraid of Max at all.

And it was such a pretty, pretty shade of blue … Max’s favorite color.

 

Suddenly, someone slammed the door open to the women’s bathroom and rushed inside.

Max felt like she was intruding, for some reason, so she hugged the wall that kept her private from whomever had suddenly come into the women’s bathroom.

“No … no … no … fucking … stupid-stupid-stupid! _Ughnn_!”

Max blinked when she heard the words.

That wasn’t a woman.

That was Nathan.

She hugged the wall even more and tried to keep herself calm.

Nathan was kind of scary and she definitely couldn’t handle him.

She hoped he didn’t notice her, for whatever reason he was here.

He would go away, eventually …

 

After a few seconds, Nathan exhaled a shaky breath and placed his hands on one of the sinks.

He looked at himself in the mirror.

Six months and he’d fuckin’ changed so much.

He barely even recognized himself in the mirror.

So skinny, and scratchy, and twitchy.

Fuck.

He breathed in harshly and looked down to the sink.

He turned it on and splashed some warm water on his face.

“You can do this … you can do this ... f-fuck.”

In a few minutes, Chloe was going to be here.

Nathan was desperately hoping he could just pay her off and forget about all of this bullshit.

But he had a feeling Chloe might start talking about Rachel again, or something, and the money wouldn’t even be good enough.

He, at least, had something to balance the scales, a little bit.

He pulled out his pistol and made sure it was loaded.

He didn’t want to kill Chloe – he just wanted her to leave him the fuck alone.

And if she wouldn’t … maybe she would after he pulled a gun on her.

Maybe he was already insane and this had already gone too far but Nathan just couldn’t keep thinking about Rachel.

It was going to kill him, eventually, if he did.

This needed to end right here, right now.

Fuck.

 

As someone else entered the bathroom, Nathan quickly put the gun away and went back to gripping the sink.

He just had to keep his calm, and Chloe just had to keep hers, and this whole thing would go smoothly, and he could forget about Rachel ---

Chloe wasn’t calm.

 

Max felt so tempted to peek out the corner as she heard a second person entering the bathroom and banging on the stalls.

What was going on?

At least this second person didn’t think to check all of the way around here – probably correctly assuming that no one would have a reason for being there normally.

“Let’s talk business. Where’s my money?”

That voice.

Max blinked.

No way.

She’d know that voice from anywhere –

Max couldn’t help herself.

She quickly peaked around the corner and –

She hid herself again.

Holy shit.

Was that Chloe?

Max thought she’d recognize that beautiful face anywhere, but if it was Chloe, she looked so different.

Angry.

Scarred.

What had happened to her …?

“I don’t have it.”

Nathan sounded so distraught, too.

But Max’s thoughts were consumed by Chloe.

She was still in Arcadia Bay, and she was pushing Nathan for money, and she looked like that …?

Maybe this five years hadn’t gone too well for her.

Oh no, Chloe …

“Like fuck you don’t. You wipe your ass with 100 dollar bills.”

Chloe’s voice was so angry.

It felt foreign to Max, somehow, even though she knew the voice intimately well.

“I don’t … have it.”

Max bit her lip.

Nathan sounded disturbed, or something – it came out so shaky and uncertain and almost a little heart-breaking.

“All fucking lies with you.”

The more Max heard Chloe, the more she was concerned.

This didn’t sound like Chloe at all ... what had happened to her?

“First you lied about Rachel and now you ---”

Who was Rachel?

That girl with the missing posters all around town …?

Max heard Nathan push off the sink, and whatever he did shut Chloe up.

Max blinked and was tempted to look around the corner again.

“Don’t fucking talk about Rachel. I’ve fucking had it with you just pushing, and pushing, and pushing ---”

This sounded bad.

Nathan was getting more and more angry.

Max had to look, and when she did, she saw Nathan --- with a gun holy shit --- brandishing it while a rightfully terrified-looking Not-Chloe backed up.

“--- Dude _what the fuck_ chill this is ---”

Oh no.

No no no no no.

Max couldn’t look away, but she felt so useless, again …

If she was a better friend, maybe, she’d have the confidence to leave cover and demand Nathan stop.

Max sighed internally.

But she wasn’t.

There was no way she could do that.

She was too fucking pathetic and useless for that.

She was too awful a friend to Chloe.

“--- _Shut up_ and listen to me for once! Ughnn!”

This situation was getting worse and worse and worse.

Do something, Max.

 

“I could do it, you know, pull the trigger --- no one would even miss your punk ass! Rachel’s gone! Get the fuck over it already!”

 

Max did nothing.

But she saw this … fire, in Chloe’s eyes, suddenly.

Chloe immediately started to struggle for the gun.

She was so brave, holy shit …

“You --- little ---”

 

Bang.

 

Max gasped.

No.

She couldn’t –

 _Chloe_ –

Max left cover and she raised her hand up, as though she could save Chloe –

 

“No!”

 

The color drained out of Max’s world, and everything came to a dead stop – the gun even froze in the air after Nathan dropped it –

Then it slowly started to rewind –

Max saw Chloe get up –

She saw Nathan go back to the sink –

Max was too stunned to do anything but keep her hand up –

Nathan left the bathroom –

Suddenly, there was this skull-splitting agony in Max’s head, and with a horribly pained groan, she raised her hand up to hide her face.

One second, two seconds, then Max officially started freaking out.

Her head still hurt so awfully but – what the _fuck_ was that?

She pulled her hand down and paced back and forth on the far side of the bathroom and –

What the _fuck_ was that?

Did she just ---

Fucking rewind time?

No way.

She was insane.

Max closed her eyes, breathed in harshly, and just –

She exhaled harshly and saw that damn blue butterfly again, flying right in front of her face again, going to right where it had earlier.

Max looked around.

Maybe she was insane.

But … maybe she wasn’t.

She got back into cover, and as Nathan entered the bathroom again, and started to vent to the mirror again, Max didn’t know what to think.

This was happening _exactly_ the same way again – word for word, second for second, except Max could do things differently.

She could – maybe she could not be so fucking useless this time, holy shit.

Max patted herself down and started to look around as the scene played out for a second time.

There wasn’t really anything in her bag or on her person that she could use to dissuade Nathan.

Even if she could fucking control time apparently she didn’t know if that was a one-off trick or something and didn’t want an armed Nathan pissed off at her.

Chloe entered the bathroom, and her words were exactly the same, too.

Shit shit shit.

Max was running out of time.

What was she going to do?

Well – if there was nothing on her, maybe there was something –

This was a janitorial space, what the hell could there possibly be –

Maybe she could shove this janitorial mop and bucket at him? –

Think Max, think –

She kept looking around -

A fire alarm!

Yes, perfect! – she just –

Max shoved the mop and bucket away and quickly made it to the fire alarm –

She pulled it, and the fire alarm was _loud_ –

She raised her hands to cover her ears.

 

But she did it.

Right?

She saved Chloe.

She did something, for a change.

After a few second and she had recovered from the shock of the loudness of the fire alarm, she peaked out of cover, and they were both gone.

Chloe hadn’t been shot.

Yes.

Max breathed a heavy sigh of relief and got out of cover.

 

Whatever all that was, Max knew what she had to do, now.

Chloe was still here.

She was still in Arcadia Bay.

And she looked worse for wear, after all this time.

Max had to reconnect.

No more excuses.

No more bullshit.

The universe just fucking gave her fucking time magic.

Maybe it would suck, maybe it would hurt, maybe Chloe would just be pissed off at her, but maybe Max could just rewind until things went right.

Until she could pluck the words out of her mind and soothe Chloe with them.

This wasn’t going to go to waste.

Max knew what she had to do.

 

What she had failed to do, five years ago.

She had to be a good friend to Chloe.

 

She _had_ to.

Max left the bathroom with more purpose than she had maybe had in her entire life.

She knew what she had to do.


End file.
